Rise of the Fallen Land
by Twizardck
Summary: When a country that everyone believes is dead suddenly declares war on one whose whole life is music, things change. Nations are vanishing right and left, brotherly ties are missed, and someone knows more than he is telling...
1. Prologue

Thank you for clicking on my first fanfiction! I'm here to warn you that the way I portray the characters may not be what you see in the anime. I also would like to say that I DO NOT OWN HETALIA IN ANY WAY! And now that that's out of the way, enjoy my portrayal and review please!

_Austria:_

There was a stirring in the air, a change in the wind. He could feel it. It ruffled through his brown hair, pushed against his glasses, caused his cloak to flap around. Opening his mouth slightly, he tasted salt in the air. He frowned. The nearest ocean was down to the south, through Slovenia and Croatia, or Italy if you were standing in a different spot. Pushing his hand through his hair, he thought. The wind wasn't coming from the south. The west. It was coming from the west.

He turned, slowly, narrowing his eyes at the setting sun. Yes, the wind was stronger this way. The Atlantic Ocean. Through Switzerland, on the other side of France. He frowned deeper. What could it mean?

Returning inside, he looked around the house and sighed. He had used to be a great power, and now? It was as if the world was forgetting him. He ran his hands over the banister as he climbed to the second story.

The phone rang the instant his feet touched the top of the stairs. He pushed through the door and walked slowly into his office. Glancing at the caller ID, he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. There were hurried breaths from the other side of the line.

"Hungary? Is there something the matter?" He pictured his former wife, drawing out her figure in his mind. She was sharp crescendos and booming soprano notes.

Breaths, sharp, harried breaths. Staccato. They were making him nervous. This was unlike her. "Hungary, what is the matter?"

"Austria. Austria – there is terrible trouble." Her voice was worried, almost frantic. It made Austria even more nervous. This was not like her at all.

He took a swing. "In the west?"

There was a jostle of movement, and Austria almost smiled. That was more like Hungary. She was nodding to his question, forgetting the phone. When you had lived as long as they had, it was hard to forget old habits. "Yes. Yes, Austria. And I think it's coming here."

"What's coming?" Austria's eyes played over his office. He fingered with the phone's cord and pretended like he was strumming a harp. Music. That was ever-changing, yet always the same.

Rest. Rest. Rest. Rest. A whole rest. Unlike Hungary, not like her at all. Then her voice came, piano. Soft.

"Austria, it's… England, France, America… They've all vanished, Austria. No one has seen them in two days."

Confused, Austria repeated what she had said. "They have… vanished? How can no one have seen them? Countries don't just vanish. There have been no wars, no earthquakes! Nothing to cause a country to die."

"There was a note."

"Left to you?"

"No, left to Spain. He came here to make sense of it all." Pianissimo. Austria was struggling to hear her now.

Rest. Rest. Rest. Rest. Another whole rest. "Well, are you going to read it?"

"It – it's addressed to Spain."

"And? He brought it to you, didn't he?"

Rest. "Yes, because it said to."

Something cold clutched at Austria's throat. "What? Hungary, read the note."

Gulp. That was not something easily translated into music. It made Austria feel cold and terrified. No music in that noise. That meant that something was terribly wrong.

"Spain, bring this to Hungary. Have her call Austria. I have England, France, and America. They will join me in time, of their own accord, once they see that I am right. Others support me. They will become your enemies, Austria. Because this is payment for all these years I have had to hide."

The coldness spread. The blood pumped in Austria's head and he clutched the phone harder.

"Those who oppose me will become like you will. It is time for you to hide."

Crescendo. A tension building crescendo.

"I'll be coming for you; I'll be coming for you both. Signed, the awesome me."

Austria dropped the phone. He knew that Hungary could hear when he said, quite loudly and only that way out of surprise, "Prussia."

_America:_

His glasses were foggy. He was coughing. It was cold and damp and smelled of potatoes. He could hear his captor pacing. He was itching to clean his glasses, but his hands were tied behind his back. He couldn't even tell who it was that was slumped next to him. The person who had been tied up and was now standing, fully freed, next to the captor was a mystery too.

The person slumped on him was asleep. He could tell that the other was shorter than he, but strong. There were muscles that could be felt in their contact. He thought that this person was someone that an Italian would be scared of. But not he. He was the hero.

At least, he had been. Until he had been jumped on and brought here. Wherever here was. It had been a while now. At least he was being fed. Granted it was nasty stuff, but at least it wasn't British food. He smiled. Though British food wouldn't have been that bad. It was the food of his youth.

"What are you smiling at?" The captor. He knew that voice. Desperately trying to place it, it came to him the moment that the captor leaned down and cleaned off his glasses. Blinking, he stared up at the albino face. It was Prussia.

"Huh. I thought you were dead."

Prussia stood up and angrily stepped away. "West kept me alive, down here in this basement. But that's not really important. What's important is that I could use your help for a great cause."

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

The albino turned away and the person who had been tied up was shown. France.

"America, just agree to him and he'll let you up."

America cocked his head and let his eyes wander until he found Prussia again. "No one is explaining anything."

Prussia squatted down in front of America and laughed. Maniacally, America thought. "Revenge, hero. You want it too, I just know it. I've been down here for too long, America. And why? Because of that Austrian."

"You want revenge on the music man?"

"No, not exactly. I want revenge on that person who nearly killed me. He was Austrian. But he's dead now."

America tried not to let his confusion bleed onto his face. "You mean Hitler? You do realize that he ran Germany, not Austria, and that he even invaded his birth country, which was Austria, yes, I'll give you that, and forced them to send him troops?"

"That's what they want you to think. They didn't want you occupying them, no they did not. They tricked you, America. They tricked the Allies into thinking they were innocent. France here sees this. Can't you? Won't you join me?"

Narrowing his eyes, America thought about the ropes cutting into his skin and the potato juice he'd been forced to drink. He longed for a hamburger. But… Austria had never done anything to him. He hardly knew the guy.

"Give me time to think." Anger flooded into him as he saw the expression on Prussia's face. "I can think you know."

Prussia smiled. "Yes. Yes, of course. Take all the time you need. I'll just be talking to him when he wakes up, then."

America was instantly reminded of the person slumped next to him. He turned his head. Shock rippled through him.

It was England.

_Russia:_

The small countries were buzzing around. It was most annoying. He raised a sunflower to his face and stared at the yellow petals. "Well, which side will you help?" he whispered to himself. A smile curled up his lips as he thought. He knew much more than they knew. He knew who would disappear next. "And it won't be me," he said softly. "He wouldn't dare, that Prussia."

Leaning back in his chair, he tapped his fingers lightly on his desk. "Perhaps I will keep watch. See how this plays."

"Mr. Russia!"

There was an intrusion. Of course, there was never any peace. Russia sat up strait and fixed a stare on the person before him. He adopted a slight smile. He breathed through his mouth, tasting the snow on his scarf.

"Yes? What is it, Lithuania?" He closed his eyes and smiled more. Play innocent. Play innocent. You know only what they think you know.

The smaller person was uncomfortable. Russia could tell that even with his eyes closed. His smile dropped a bit as he peeked through and saw the distant expression on Lithuania's face. Would he never be trusted? He tried so hard to appear kind. Was it just because he had conquered Lithuania? Dragged him from Poland? But who would want to stay with Poland anyway?

"Lithuania?"

Russia watched as Lithuania jumped a bit, his light brown hair twitching slightly at the ends. His smile vanished.

"Mr. Russia, you were right." Lithuania's voice wasn't as strong as it had been when he had walked in the door. It wavered.

Putting his smile in place again, Russia stood up to his full height and went over to the window. He stared out at the snow, wishing for a warm place. The sunflower was still on his desk. In a warm place there would be sunflowers everywhere.

"That's disappointing," he murmured. "I had been hoping that he would surprise me." Russia ran his fingers through his silver hair and watched the snow for a little while more. He forgot about Lithuania. He forgot about England and France and America. He forgot about Prussia and Austria and Hungary. He focused on the snow and of the burning light of vodka. Sunflowers. His happy place. Then he turned back around and faced Lithuania. "Who went?" he asked.

Lithuania instinctively looked down when Russia's eyes went on him. "What do you mean, Mr. Russia?"

"Who went to make sure?"

Russia watched as color burned in Lithuania's cheeks. "Belarus did, sir."

A cold burn stretched through Russia's stomach. Of course. She was always looking for an excuse. He smiled again. "Well then, send her in, Lithuania."

"Yes, Mr. Russia."


	2. Chapter 1

_Austria:_

Forte. Forte. FORTE! Pounding out Chopin on the piano, Austria tried to lose himself in the music. It always worked, so why wasn't it working now? He abruptly stopped in the middle of the piece and stood up, pushing the bench away. His elbows slammed into the top of the grand piano. His face buried itself in his hands.

He had tried to talk to the leaders of his country. Of course that had been useless. He liked music as much as – no, more than any of them. But he at least could see that this was a catastrophe. Last time Prussia had invaded he had taken Silesia. Only with Hungary's help had Austria survived at all. Prussia was a king of the battlefield. Music could not do anything there.

It was sad. He had used to smile when Prussia came into the room. He had helped the country become great. The two had been good friends.

No. That was wrong. Austria stepped away from the piano and stood, feeling lost, in the center of the music room.

Prussia was his brother.

He had never wanted to fight him. But he had been left no choice.

Austria had known all along that Prussia was not dead. Every time he looked at Germany and saw the guilty light in his eye, he knew. Prussia was alive, somehow. And Austria knew that Prussia would blame him for his downfall. Hitler. Austria cursed the name of that cowardly traitor. He wondered if Germany did the same, staying up night after night, staring into the shadows covering the ceiling, seeing the bloodthirsty mongrel who had started the whole useless war. Austria could still remember watching a child of his country march in and take over. He wasn't as strong as he used to be. If a mere man could do that, Prussia could do much, much more.

Hungary had told him that she was coming with Spain. Spain was scared. He had fought against Austria in the past, with Prussia, and he knew what Prussia was like. He was afraid that the note meant that he was next.

Well, Austria was firmly decided that he could not allow that to be the case. He could not allow another innocent country to be captured in a war that was meant only to take revenge against him.

If Prussia wanted him, he could come. Austria wasn't scared.

Walking out of the room, back to the office, he picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number.

Three rings. Each ring was a measure. Three measures. An appropriate intro.

"Hello?" Austria wasn't quite sure if he knew the voice at the other end.

"Yes, hello. May I…"

Austria was cut off by a sudden blurt from the other side. "Who is this?"

"It's Austria, may I speak to…"

He was cut off again. "He's busy. Can you hold?"

"Yes, I can hold." Austria glanced up at the clock across from the phone. It had been two hours since Hungary called. Two hours was long enough for something to happen to her and Spain. Two hours was long enough for something to happen to France, England, and America. Austria hoped very much that they hadn't been convinced by Prussia to join him. They had too many allies.

_America:_

England. Oh God _damn_ this sucked. America stared at his former guardian for perhaps a second too long. How the _hell_ had the country that was supposed to be dead gotten both of them? America sucked in a breath as he realized that he was supposed to have gone to England's house at three… however long ago. He had blown it off playing video games.

The overprotective idiot had probably come looking for him.

America watched as England came to, grumbling something. There was a lump on his head. America bit his lip and brushed his tied up hands against England's.

"What game are we playing, America?" England mumbled as he finally blinked open his eyes. "That's why you didn't come, right? So, what are we… what? Where am I?"

Prussia came out of the shadows holding a bottle of what looked suspiciously like potato juice. "You are here, England. I need to talk to you."

England managed to scoot back a little, bumping into America even more. He darted a surprised look in America's direction. "America, what is going on?"

America's teeth dug farther into his lip. He stared at England, feeling like a little cluster of colonies again, instead of a great nation that stretched from ocean to ocean. For some reason, being around England always made him feel like this. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Well," he eventually said. "I believe that we have been captured."

Normally the way England's eyebrows shot up all at once, like a great chain reaction of anthills leaping upwards toward the sky, would send America into a fit of helpless laughter, topped off with a coke and a monster hamburger. But right now he was feeling way too guilty for that, convinced as he was that it was he who had led Prussia to getting England as well.

"And… what would you mean by that, America?"

"Uh, I'm sorry?" America hated that his glasses were crooked. He must look like Canada. Imagine being a ghost instead of a hero!

England stared at America. "Why are you sorry?"

There was a clearing of a throat. Prussia stepped forward a bit more, his white hair blinding in the dark. America stared up at his red eyes. They were a bit unnerving. How had Germany dealt with it all this time? He remembered when Prussia had helped him in the Revolutionary War. He hadn't liked him back then either.

"England, you've been out for two days!" Prussia put on a vaguely worried look.

Two days! America hadn't guessed that it had been that long!

America watched as England groaned and tried to rub his eyes, found that his hands were tied, and settled with straitening his back so he could almost look like the proud gentleman he was. "Was it you who bashed me in the head, Prussia? Have you no respect for me? I was your ally."

There was an amused gleam in the albino's eyes. "I respect you greatly. And that is why I have brought you here to propose that you join me."

America blocked out the rest of the conversation, leaning his head against the wall. Two days without hamburgers. It was madness. He wondered why he hadn't just said yes to Prussia. Surely if he allied with him, he'd let him out of this place, right? Up into the world to get a burger.

When he started to listen again, he realized that England was fully caught up with the goings on. And what he was saying brought a smile to America's face.

"To expect that I'll just join you like that after you have nearly given me a concussion, dragged me into a basement, and tied me up, that's crazy! And for what? Revenge without a pretense!"

America smiled. Oh, England.

But he had the right idea. America stared at Prussia until he got his attention. The albino looked wilted. He had probably expected that his old ally would join him.

"Are you going to let me down, America?" Prussia sounded sad and expectant.

America just nodded.

Sighing, Prussia turned away. "Yes, yes, I thought so. Then you two, just stay down here and get comfortable. I have some old friends to try."

Prussia left, France with him. America watched them leave before turning back towards England. He hesitated before saying "I was playing that game that Japan got me."

_Russia:_

She had always been beautiful. Russia watched as she came in, clutching her knife in her hand. He took a sharp breath before putting on his dopey smile. She always had the knife. Why should it bother him?

But his eyes kept getting drawn to the blade. For some reason it was putting him off today.

"Russia," she said.

"Belarus." He brought his gaze down to the sunflower. It wasn't just the knife. She put him off. She always did. It wasn't a good feeling to have towards your younger sister.

Might as well just get to the point, he thought. "You went to check?" He looked up, feeling his scarf bounce as his chin lifted. He stared at her, watching each movement, afraid that at any moment she would jump him, insistently saying _that word_.

Belarus nodded, the blue bow on her head sliding on her hair. "Yes. And I got good information too. Will you think about what I want now?"

"You always have an ulterior motive." Russia shook his head, still smiling, though inside he was screaming in terror. "We are going into a war, Belarus. I need to know everything."

She stepped closer, her eyes shining. Russia pushed his chair back. "You already know everything Russia. Why do you pretend not to?" As she walked she slid her knife into her sleeve so that both of her hands were free. She planted her hands on the desk and leaned forward, the ends of her blonde hair blowing towards Russia's face. "Become one with me, Russia. Marry me."

Russia stood up abruptly, the color drained from his face. She had said it. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. "I'll be back," he said at the door. "And when I'm back, you'd better be gone."

He shuddered as he walked down the hall, the scarf not keeping in the warmth as it usually did. Belarus just scared him too much. "My sister," he whispered as he walked, trying to clear his head. He kept repeating it, trying to stay to the right words. "My sister. My sister." But as it always did, as he was thinking of Belarus, the words changed. "My sister. That sister. My monster. That monster."

So engrossed was he in his mumblings, Russia turned the corner and ran right into Latvia. He blinked down at the small boy and looked at the phone in his hand. "For me?" he asked, suddenly smiling again. Play innocent. Play innocent.

Latvia looked shocked for a second then managed an, "Uh, yeah!" and held out the phone.

Smiling as he took the phone and pressed down on Latvia's head with his other hand, Russia nodded. He pressed a button to take the call and with the most pleasant voice he could muster, answered.

"Hello?"


	3. Chapter 2

_Austria:_

Austria was relieved when he finally got an answer. "Russia?" he breathed, hardly daring to hope that it wasn't just another rude subordinate. His old ally had too many of those.

"Yes. Is this Austria?" the voice on the other end of the line was pleasant and calm, but Austria knew from fighting by his side that he had a dark side. And there was something about him that suggested that he knew more than he would ever say.

Unable to keep himself from nodding, like Hungary had done on the phone, Austria ended up blushing in embarrassment. "Yes. Russia, I have a predicament."

"Austria, my boss says not to get into any battles right now. There is too much else going on."

Rest. "No, that's not what I need Russia." Austria privately wished that Russia hadn't said that. He did need help on the battlefield. Hungary would help him, and Spain might, but you were in good hands if Russia was your ally. "I need information."

Rest. Rest. A half rest. "What makes you think that I have that?"

"Because you always do."

Laughter. Musical, lyrical laughter. Austria closed his eyes and let the sound wash over him. It was nothing like Prussia's laughter, all shakers, rattlesnake. This was orchestral and percussion. It was magic.

Russia stopped laughing, but there was still amusement in his voice. "What do you need to know, Austria?"

Austria breathed in deep. Russia was offering his help. This was a good sign. "Where is Prussia, and where is he keeping the countries he's taken?"

"It's the same place, Austria. Germany's house."

Frowning, Austria leaned over the desk. During the war and for a short while afterwards, he had lived at that house. He had never heard any mention of his other brother. "That will be hard to get into."

Russia laughed again, but this time without humor. "Not just hard. Nearly impossible. It's the basement, not the house itself. England and America are in the basement, and there is only the entrance through the house."

"What about France?"

Rest. The tension rest, the one placed right in the middle of a measure to give the listener a pause. "France has joined Prussia."

"But England and America…"

"Don't agree with him."

His fears slightly abetted, Austria turned to look out at the night. "Thank you Russia. You are a great help."

"Austria."

"Yes?"

"This doesn't mean that I'm on your side. I have yet to decide where I stand." Russia sounded oddly serious.

Taking in a sharp breath, Austria stared down at the table. "Russia, how did you know what was going on? You didn't seem surprised at all. I didn't need to explain."

There was more of Russia's musical laughter. "It's like you said. I always know." And with that the call ended with a click.

Putting down the phone, Austria stared out the window, looking for movement. He knew it was too early. Of course. But he couldn't help but be worried about Hungary and Spain. Times were desperately troubled.

"I've been neutral for years," he whispered, eyes gazing out almost blindly into the dark. "But what can I do when the war is brought straight to me?"

Mechanically, Austria picked up the phone and dialed another number. Two rings. Two measures. Not the best intro he could think of.

"Hello?" the voice on the end of the line was piano and soprano. Soft and female. It was painstakingly familiar.

"Yes, hello. May I speak to your brother?"

"I'll go get him," was the response.

Austria waited. His mind spun. If you were a neutral country, who could you turn to for help? Of course, this was why he was on the phone now. If you were a neutral country, always try another neutral country.

_America:_

Feeling properly punished enough already, America shrank down as England continued to rant. It wasn't hard to tell that his former guardian was not happy. It hadn't taken him long to realize that he probably wouldn't be here if he hadn't gone to find America and ask why he wasn't over yet.

England was starting to repeat what he had already said. America blocked it out for a while, listening again only after his headache subsided.

"And now we are who knows where, tied up because of a country who shouldn't even exist anymore! And to make it even worse, I'm here because of you. YOU America! I guess it serves me right for even worrying about you when it had been three hours since you were supposed to have shown up and you weren't there! And why? Because you were playing a _stupid video game!_" England's face was red and he was breathing heavily.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm glad that I'm not here alone."

Glowering at America, England replied in a stiff voice. "I'd much rather you be here alone."

America stared at England, feeling empty and wilted. Then an idea slowly formed in his head. "Hey, England. Do you have your pocket knife?"

"Yeah, why? I always have it in case of an… emergency." The light dawned on England's face. "It's in my front pocket. Can you reach?"

Shifting so that he was in front of England, America stretched his hands back until he was feeling around on top of the pocket. Getting onto his knees, he tried and failed to slip a hand in. He kept trying until he got into the pocket and managed to close his hand on cold metal.

"I got it!"

Hearing a relieved chuckle from England, America held on tight as he retracted his hands. Then, flipping out the knife, he got to work on his bonds. "I'll do you next, don't worry," America muttered quietly, his voice muffled as his face was pulled into an expression of concentration.

"I'm not worried," said England. "Not for us."

America turned his head and fixed his gaze on England's bright green eyes. "Then who are you worried about?"

He watched as England's eyes fell to the ground. "Austria. Years ago I was his only ally when Prussia first invaded him. But my heart… it wasn't in the right place. I only sided with Austria because I wanted to beat up France, who was on the other side. Once I got what I wanted, I left." England looked back up at America. "Austria is not made for war. He is not made to battle. He is supposed to be playing his piano, his violin, whatever instrument. Fighting is not his thing. And what I'm worried most about is that Prussia will have learned from his mistakes. Hungary beat him that time. He knows that now. Hungary is sure to side with Austria. And Prussia will do anything to keep that from happening."

Biting his lip, America kept sawing at the ropes. He could feel the pressure loosening. Already his raw skin was not being rubbed so hard. It felt better – not good, but much, much better.

They passed a few minutes in silence except for the constant noise of the knife cutting through the rope.

"You know, England, if we get out of here, maybe you can make it up to Austria." America looked at the older country curiously, watching as the blonde head slowly rose. "Prussia's crazy, and you know it. And the music man – he can't be ready for battle, can he?"

Shaking his head, England stared hard at America for a while. So long that America began to feel uncomfortable under his green gaze. Before England could say anything, America's bonds snapped and his hands were freed. He brought them back around to his front, wringing them out and shrugging his shoulders to relieve the built up tension. Then he turned back to England and began undoing the knots.

"We've got to get you free before Prussia comes back down here."

England stayed quiet for a while wile America worked. Then he said softly, not in the angry voice he had used earlier with him, "You aren't as dumb as everyone says you are. I'm glad."

America smiled as the last knot surrendered to him. "Thanks England." He stood up and walked a little bit around the room before turning back with a puzzled look. "Wait, they say that I'm dumb?"

_Russia:_

It was cold outside. So cold. Subzero. Not like that was anything new. The ground was covered with ice and snow was falling from the sky. Russia planted each foot carefully, looking around for his spot. He knew that he would know it instinctively, thought it had been so long since he had come this way.

As he walked, flashes of his conversation with Austria played through his mind. Just why had he told the piano player anything? He had decided to wait and see how things went before helping anyone… And then he had gone and told Austria what he needed to know.

Russia guessed that he was just evening the playing field. Prussia knew where Austria was, he knew everything that Austria knew about what was going on, at least, he thought he knew. He already was gathering allies. Telling locations and statistics to Austria had just been making things a bit more fair.

There it was. Russia walked a bit faster until he stood fully upon the frozen lake. Closing his eyes, he smiled as he remembered that day. He lifted up his mittens to push his scarf into his face, ignoring the wet of melted snow. Then he kneeled on the ice and put his hands on the ground. He let the cold seep into them as he brushed snow and chipped ice away. He gazed into the frozen lake, saw nothing, and moved onto the next patch.

Keeping on with this work, Russia didn't stop until he could see the dark bulk of something beneath the lake. Sitting back on his heels, he smiled darkly at the object. "He'll be wanting this," he murmured, staring at it with something close to malice. "But that can't happen." And with that Russia brought an ice saw out of his coat and began cutting through the ice.

It took a while before he made a hole large enough to get to the thing that had been stuck in the frozen water. But living in the cold snowy and vast land that was him had granted Russia endless patience. And it all paid off when he could reach in the hole and pull out the small brown box covered in layer after layer of plastic bags. He smiled through his shivering.

As Russia stood up he laughed a little and lifted the box to his eyelevel. It looked unremarkable, much like something you would find bulk produce packed in at a store. But what it contained would be very, very important in this war.

"So Prussia," Russia said softly, lowering his head so that his silvery-white hair covered his violet eyes. "This is the key to your victory. But it is also the ticket to Austria's survival." A beaming, toothy smile broke across the large country's face. He rarely showed teeth. "Who wants it more?"

And with that he set back across the frozen terrain to his house, dreading each step as it brought him closer to that monster. That monster. That monster.


	4. Chapter 3

_Austria:_

"I need your help."

"You always need my help." The voice on the other end was full of antagonistic alto notes and no-nonsense timbre. The tone was so pure and strong, it even took Austria aback. It was unexpected.

Taking in a sharp breath, Austria answered in his own mild tenor. "I know. But this time it's really bad."

"I would have heard something."

"Not necessarily. But if you have, try this. Three nations are missing and I know who took them. And the reason they are missing? Because they are wanted to help fight – against me."

The laughter on the other end was short and dry. "I don't care who it is, they don't need anyone else to beat you."

"This person does. It's Prussia."

Rest. Rest. Rest. Half and a quarter rest. "I thought he was dead."

"Of course he wasn't. Germany looked up to his older brother too much."

"But – you're his older brother too. Surely he knew that…"

Austria sunk lower in his chair. "Of course he knew."

There was a gust of air from the other side of the line. "I'm not that friendly with Prussia either. He – he didn't mention anything about me?"

"He did say that all who oppose him will be squashed. And he probably has his sights on you already. You can pack a punch."

"Yeah…"

"Will you help me?"

Rest. "I don't know."

Standing up abruptly, Austria drew up a mental picture. A boy about his height. Blonde hair. Good at fighting. Full of rigor and strength. Green eyes. Good with his gun. "Switzerland, I need your help. I promise I won't take you for granted." _Never again_, he added in his mind, remembering his past friendship with the other country. He missed the closeness he used to have. Switzerland had been his best friend.

Rest. "Fine, I'll be there. Give me a few hours."

Relieved, Austria let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Bring Lichtenstein too. You don't want her there if Prussia shows up."

"I know."

"Thank you, Switzerland."

"Don't thank me yet." The call abruptly ended, leaving Austria holding the phone awkwardly, once again having to wait. It was well into the night now.

There was a frantic knock from the lower floor. Descending the stairs, Austria felt relief settling upon him. Hungary must be here with Spain. He walked up to the door and looked through the peephole. Spain was standing right outside the door. The expression on his face gave Austria pause, but then he relaxed and opened the door. The western country flew in.

Continuing to hold the door, Austria waited for Hungary to waltz in. He imagined her in her old battle clothes, all white with her hair tied up behind her, eyes so green and alight with the fire of fighting. But no one came through the door.

Confused, Austria turned towards Spain. He watched the small brunette man shiver, the normal sparkle in his eyes gone. It made Austria feel nervous.

"Where's Hungary?" he asked, bringing up image after image of her, the way she stood with her head held high, even in her maid outfit, the way she lashed out with her frying pan as if it was a sword or a gun.

The look Spain gave him was enough to tell him everything, and he closed the door mechanically and in silent despair.

_America:_

"It's locked," England announced, his hand straining against the doorknob.

Sighing, America slumped against the wall. "Of course it's locked. Prussia probably knew that you had a pocketknife."

"Then why didn't he take it?"

"Maybe he wanted to test us?"

The two looked at each other briefly, then laughed. England walked back down the stairs to the bottom of the basement. He glanced around.

"What are you looking for?" America inquired.

England was silent for a second longer before putting his gaze back on America. "Another way out."

"There isn't one."

"How are you so sure?"

"France asked about it while you were asleep."

Again laughing, England walked around. "Prussia doesn't know everything. There has got to be something that has been hidden all this time."

"I don't think so. I think that Prussia will know this place better than you'd expect." America let his eyes wander around the walls of the basement. "He said that he'd been living down here."

There was a loud thump and an, "Oh," from England.

America watched as the other country walked back up to him. They looked at each other for a long moment, then England let out a sigh.

"I guess we are stuck here for now," he mused.

"Yeah."

Sitting down, America waited for something to happen.

The door opened.

A figure was pushed down the stairs and landed awkwardly.

The door closed.

The person stood up.

America heard England gasp and say a single word. "Hungary."

_Russia:_

As he walked in the door to the too warm house Russia slid the box under his coat. He plastered on his smile and called out a greeting, waiting for the rush of his subordinates coming to bow and greet. Before they could come he slipped into a different room, instantly dropping his smile, and went through a less used hallway into his office.

Russia slipped into his chair and gazed at the wood of his desk, slowly bringing out the box. He stared at the unassuming item for a second before opening up the lowest drawer of his file cabinet and tucking the box away. Locking the drawer, he then placed the key inside his pocket and sat up again, glancing around to make sure that he hadn't been observed.

He wasn't ready for others to know that he had it yet.

Closing his eyes, Russia thought back to the day that he had acquired the box. It had been completely by accident, right after Prussia fell. And the instant he had seen what it contained, Russia had known that it was dreadfully important, both to Austria and Prussia. But for different reasons.

But until one of them figured out that he had it, the box wasn't important.

Russia brought his phone to his ear and pressed a button. He listened to something on the other end, then brought the phone away. A smile almost appeared on his lips. Of course, he had been right.

The tall man stood up and walked slowly to the door, wondering just what to do now. He had all the moves of both sides mapped out, knew just what was going to happen and when, could almost hear their thoughts whispering into his mind. Hungary was taken, Spain had made it. Switzerland would get to Austria's without much trouble, because Prussia had his eyes on a larger prize. One that he hoped would get America to change his mind.

His hand on the doorknob, Russia smiled even broader. Of course, it wouldn't work. Prussia didn't know just what he was getting into. His next prey was like Russia himself: different than what everyone else saw.

Smirking, Russia opened the door. Yes, different from what people saw – or didn't see.


	5. Chapter 4

_Austria:_

Austria was not a naturally violent person. But after Spain was done telling his story, he did feel like punching something. Hard.

Prussia had caught up to Hungary and Spain just before they were about to cross the border into the relative safety of Austria. Hungary had quickly realized that in order for anyone to escape there would have to be a distraction, and she immediately took Prussia on. Spain escaped.

Yes, right now Austria really wanted to punch something. Preferably something that would make a sound like a big drum. Unfortunately, he didn't have a drum around.

"Didn't she think at all?"

He watched as Spain nodded, then shook his head, then nodded and shook his head, somehow at the same time.

"Did you even see what happened?"

"Um, no, I was running." Spain looked sheepish.

Rubbing his temples, Austria took a deep sighing breath. "Why were you running? Why didn't you help her?

"She said to run."

"SHE WASN'T THINKING!"

Austria turned away from the other country. "Well, at least now you know that you were not next. And now you are here, and he won't get you. Will you at least give me troops to support mine?"

"You can gather troops? Cause, I'll send some of mine, but only if you have some of your own."

Turning an icy violet gaze on Spain, Austria nodded. "I can gather troops," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Spain relaxed slightly on Austria's favorite couch. Wincing, Austria looked away again. Spain was muddy, dripping mud all over the expensive leather couch.

"Do you want a change of clothes, Spain?"

"Oh I have some. I just need to catch my breath. Do you want a churro?"

A dangerous gleam appeared in Austria's eyes, and he was momentarily glad that he was facing away from Spain. "So, you had to run away from Prussia, you left Hungary there by herself, you need to catch your breath… and yet you managed to bring churros?"

"Of course!"

Sighing, Austria walked towards the door to the kitchen. "Call me if Switzerland gets here," he muttered.

"Sure thing!"

Once he was in the kitchen Austria stumbled to a countertop for support. He breathed in shakily, remembering how Spain had been long ago. Not much different. Always happy, with a smile, recovering from things quickly. He used to be England's number one rival, then France changed that, and for a little while, America. He had been allied with Spain before, and fought against him before. Austria knew that Spain was useful and good in a scrap, but his personality was in such contrast with Austria's own that it made him dizzy sometimes.

It was kind of like being in a room with Prussia, actually. Making his head spin in confusion, so overwhelmed by the total difference between them.

It could really get annoying.

_America:_

America watched almost in a daze as England moved to help Hungary up. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to them, staring at Hungary in disbelief. From what he had heard about her, when Hungary got angry there was no stopping her until her opponent was on the floor, bleeding.

Apparently England was thinking the same thing. He blurted out a very untactful, "How the hell did they get you?"

Now standing, Hungary looked around the room for a second with a slight frown on her face. She held out her hands and stared at England, clearly wanting him to untie them. She waited.

Since England seemed to be too stunned to figure out what the female country wanted, America stepped in and started working through the knots. As he worked Hungary spoke.

"Spain and I were trying to get to Austria's house. Prussia being as sure of himself as he is, he left a note boasting about how he would force Austria into hiding. Just before we were inside Austria's land, Prussia showed up with France and probably about ten men, both German and French. They didn't look all that bright so I figured that if I distracted them, Spain would be able to get away. And so I did. And Spain got into Austria's land. I ended up here." America marveled at how calm Hungary's voice was, seeing as she had just been captured and flung haphazardly into a basement.

England groaned. "He only wanted you in the first place, I'll bet."

Shrugging, Hungary pulled her hands free from the loosened ropes. "We won't be here long now. When Austria gets angry he can do almost anything, despite his usual persona. And if you think he's just been sitting there all this time doing nothing, you're wrong. He'll have called in a friend."

"Just one?" America was running through the list of his allies, wondering how much he could help Austria if he got out of here.

Hungary smiled. "Just one that I know will say yes. He'll protest at first but he always ends up helping Austria." She straightened out her green dress, hands worrying over the tears. Then she paused and looked back at America.

"America?"

"Hmm?" America glanced up from the ground, still going through his list.

Biting her lip, Hungary thought for a second. "Your brother… what's his name?"

"Canada." He smiled. The ghost.

"Yes. Well. Prussia really wants you to ally with him."

America was tempted to ask why, but the list he was still compiling gave him the answer. Instead he asked his next question. "What does this have to do with Canada?"

Hungary stared at America. "You're fond of your brother, no?"

Confused, America nodded. "Of course. He's my brother."

"Well, Prussia was talking to France. He said that in order to convince you to join him, he needed a bargaining chip."

A hollow pit appeared where America's stomach used to be. "He's going after Canada?" Thinking of his brother, America thought about all the times he had beaten him in baseball, all the times he had plowed right into him, the way his glasses were always crooked, the way he hugged that stuffed bear that France had given him so long ago. Canada was weak.

Hungary blinked. "Yes."

_Russia:_

Sitting down, Russia wondered if it was strange that he knew instinctively when it was going to happen. When things would start moving.

He decided that it was perfectly normal.

Bringing out a remote, he pointed it towards a wall and pressed a large red button. A flat screen television drew out from the wall. As the power turned on, a list appeared, white words on a blue background.

Russia fiddled with a button on the remote until a single word was highlighted. The word "Canada."

The instant he pressed the select button, a picture appeared on the screen. The main foyer of Canada's house. Russia smiled. Yes, this was where it would happen. He turned up the volume and rested his chin on his hands.

The doorbell in Canada's house rang. Russia watched carefully as the tall boy – Russia would always consider Canada a boy, despite what he knew about him – went to open the door. Smiling as he saw the telltale bulge on Canada's belt, he waited for the action to begin.

The door opened on a man dressed in black, who shoved Canada back in order to let Prussia in. Prussia instantly moved to tie up the other nation.

Canada brought out his gun and banged it against Prussia's head. There was a cold certainty in his eye. He looked right at the camera.

Russia smiled. Yes, Prussia did not know just who he was dealing with. No one had ever bothered to find out much about Canada.

France walked into the room and Russia watched as Canada turned the gun towards his former father figure. Raising his hands, France said a few sentences that made Russia lean closer in surprise. A bright, open smile danced across his face.

Well, well, well. Who would have thought it would be France to surprise him.


	6. Chapter 5

_Austria:_

The room was filled with an awkward silence. It wasn't the musical rest that said so much more than others thought, but a tuneless silence. While Spain's arrival had been annoying and infuriating, being around Switzerland brought up memories that Austria would rather stay buried. He wasn't proud of them. In fact, they were quite embarrassing.

The blonde nation and his little sister sat on Austria's overlarge lazy chair. Austria noticed with amusement that Lichtenstein was still wearing clothes almost identical to her brother's, her hair cut short, the only girly thing being the blue ribbon she wore in her hair. She idolized her brother.

Austria noticed with far less comfort the gun belt the young girl wore. Another thing that was like Switzerland.

Switzerland had his own gun out, his fingers nimbly checking every crevice for a flaw. The concentration was evident on his face as he went over the weapon, holding it almost as if it was a baby. While Austria had never been able to fully graduate from the weapons of his youth, Switzerland was always progressing. The four and four he held now was his favorite, he could hide it almost anywhere and it was one of the most portable. Austria was glad that he hadn't brought one of his machine guns.

When Austria himself had to fight, his weapon of choice was his sword. Not that he was going to show it to Switzerland, not that he was going to admit that he still practiced with it.

No, that would make things so much more awkward. It had been Switzerland who had taught him the art of sword fighting in the first place, after all.

Lichtenstein stared at Spain, who was still sitting on the couch, though thankfully now with clean clothes on. He was eating a churro, engrossed in the very act of chewing and swallowing. The young girl fingered her own gun, something dark fluttering briefly in her eyes. Austria swallowed hard when she turned her gaze on him.

"What's the plan to rescue Hungary?" she asked, getting straight to the point. Switzerland's eyes flickered briefly from his gun, the same question mirrored in them, before he started loading the ammunition.

Austria stared back at the girl for a while, then shook his head. "Unless any of you have a way to get into Germany's house undetected by him or Prussia or France, then there is no plan right now."

Switzerland looked up with a dangerous glare. His eyes locked on Austria's, a challenge in their green depths. "Germany is your brother, right?

Looking back while managing somehow not to flinch at the gleam in the other country's eyes, Austria nodded. "Right. I've thought about all of this, you know. I helped raise Prussia, he raised Germany, and I did too. Both of them are connected to me. But obviously, Germany doesn't care about that, as long as Prussia wants something. He was always the favorite brother." No one could miss the longing in the musical country's voice. "I was always in the background. Now more so than ever."

There was an annoyed look on Switzerland's face, and Austria wondered if he was remembering their own history. But the other country just said, "Then we'll have to go the sleazy way." He looked disgusted.

_America:_

America was astounded to find that when Canada entered the room, his hands were not tied and he was walking of his own accord. France was following him. There was no sign of Prussia.

Watching as England got to his feet, America did the same, as did Hungary. America could see the anger on England's face as he looked at France. He was surprised to find that he did not feel the same way. All he felt was cold confusion as to what was going on.

His brother walked towards him, and America slowly registered the changes in the tall country's demeanor. Glasses straight, eyes calculating, not holding his stuffed bear.

"How – what – huh?" America sputtered.

A slight smile curled around Canada's mouth. "Let's go."

Canada wasn't going to tell him anything. Turning to France, America fixed the older man with a questioning gaze. "What is going on?"

Chuckling, France curled a strand of his hair around a finger. "You should learn to look beyond first impressions."

"Come on, let's go," Canada repeated, now holding onto America's arm. "Both of you too," he added, looking over at Hungary and England.

America took his brother's hand and pulled it off his shirt. "Canada, you explain things first."

"There isn't any time. People don't stay unconscious forever."

"Hold on. Who's unconscious?" England walked over to stand next to America.

Tapping his foot impatiently, Canada looked around the room. "Prussia. Can we go now?"

Hungary came up now. "And why is he unconscious?"

The tapping increased in pace. "I hit him in the head with my gun."

"Your GUN?" America sputtered, eyes wide. "You have a GUN?"

The look of surprise in Canada's eyes made no sense to America. "Yes I have a gun. Did you think I have been just sitting around all these years waiting for someone to attack me?"

Before America could answer, France broke in. "Now really, does this matter now? You all need to leave before Prussia wakes up and Germany gets back from the store."

"And where are we going?" Hungary asked.

"To the only completely safe place right now." Canada grabbed a hold of America's arm again, obviously intending to pull his brother out of the basement. "To Russia."

Blinking, America loosed his brother's hold on him again. "No."

"No?" Canada's eyebrows raised. "Don't you want to get out of here?"

America nodded. "Yes. But not this way. I think I get what is going on here." He glanced over Canada's shoulder at France. "You help us, you blow your cover."

France shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure nothing happened to Canada. I'd forgotten what he was capable of."

Staring at the older country, America chose his words carefully. "But Prussia has others he wants to join him."

"This is true," was the calm answer.

"We are not in danger. They are."

The blonde Frenchman inclined his head slightly. "Yes."

"Well then. What are you doing here?" America's blue eyes glittered. "Shouldn't you be trying to wake up Prussia?"

With a sigh, France turned to leave. "You have ten minutes then."

America stood in front of his brother, trying to plan out his words and get his brother to see his point of view. It was incredibly different seeing as he know realized he knew less about Canada than he had thought. "Canada, if we leave now it will put France under suspicion."

Canada shrugged. "He knows that."

"So, go to Austria. Help him get us out."

The other North American country stared at his brother silently, then finally nodded. "Next time, you will let me free you." Then he turned to leave as well.

Watching him go, America couldn't help but think that he was making a huge mistake. He turned to look at England, who nodded, then at Hungary, whose eyes were shining for the first time since she had been thrown in here. America had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the mention of Austria. As the door to the basement closed, America breathed in deeply and nodded, though he knew that Canada couldn't see.

"Next time I will."

_Russia:_

Leaning back with the faintest outline of a smile on his face, Russia turned over what had happened in his head. It had been totally unexpected – and showed him that he should have been keeping a closer eye on France. It was just that the bearded nation was just too unassuming.

"He could learn a thing or two though," Russia muttered. "After all, no one has spied longer than me. And he almost let others give himself away."

Leaving the office, Russia went down the hallway and pushed open the door to the living room. He was vaguely amused at the way his subordinates scrambled to their feet, as if trying to create the illusion that they had actually been doing something instead of sitting around playing a game of Go Fish with Belarus.

His sister looked up, her eyes calm and bored, and loudly announced, "Lithuania, do you have any sevens?"

Lithuania went pale.

Russia went and stood behind the couch, looking at the three men and the young woman. He put on his most innocent smile and glanced at the cards on the coffee table. "Well, I do hope you're having fun."

Belarus rolled her eyes. "What do you want? Have you thought more about my request?"

Russia sent his sister a look that could either be described as annoyance or fear. "No. I'm here because it has come to my attention that things may be… slipping through the cracks."

Estonia snapped to attention. "What can we do to help, Mr. Russia?"

The shark's grin that appeared across the tall nation's face now was anything but innocent. "Well, I was hoping that you would ask that."


	7. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: This chapter features an irritated Austria, Russia beginning his mastermind plan, and some fun with potatoes. Wow I have no life. Do enjoy.**

O.o.O

_Austria:_

If Austria had said that he wasn't surprised to see Canada suddenly appear at his door, he would have been lying. If he had said that he was used to seeing a handgun in Canada's hand, he would have been lying. But he said none of those things.

Switzerland did.

The foursome in Austria's house had just been about to start their plan when there had been a knock on the door. Austria had gone to open it, looking through the peephole just in case. He had originally been excited, thinking that America had gotten out by himself and was here to help. But the instant he had seen that England and Hungary were not there too he knew the truth.

"Nice you see you Canada," Switzerland said, a little too loudly for Austria's taste. He was leaning up against a pillar that had a clear view of the now open door. "How's your aim going?"

A smile danced across the tall nation's face. "Well enough. But I prefer not to shoot if possible."

Switzerland shrugged. "What's the good of having a gun if you can't be trigger happy?" Austria was suddenly glad that his old friend's gun was tucked well away in his holster.

Canada let himself in, stepping easily around Austria. "Who else is here?" he asked.

"This is my house, you could at least talk to me first," Austria muttered, his voice quiet enough not to be heard by anyone else. Some of the younger countries could be quite rude.

From the surprise voiced in the living room, Austria guessed that Spain was shocked at Canada too. He used to be invisible. Now he was walking in with a gun, acting like he owned the place.

Rather angry, Austria closed the door.

When he stepped back into the living room, he noticed instantly that Canada had claimed _his_ favorite chair and was talking to the others in the room rapidly. And everyone was listening.

"All I want to do is help out my brother. When I found out about this, I knew that America would say no to Prussia and that I would have to help free him. But when I went there, he said that he couldn't leave, not until there was an actual rescue attempt. It's ridiculous! But anyway, this is my plan."

Austria was seething by now. "Esel," he growled, turning away from the gathering and going up to his music room. There he banged out some Mozart and Chopin until he could feel a normal, cool sense of peace envelop him.

Clapping – quiet, pianissimo clapping – came from behind him and Austria spun around on his piano bench so he could face the small form of Lichtenstein. He allowed his eyes to check that her gun was in its holster before he relaxed.

"Do you want something, Lichtenstein?" he asked, finding that he was feeling much better now. It would be bad if he couldn't act civil, just because some self-important schmuck had decided to take over the entire operation.

Lichtenstein gazed at him with eyes so deep they made him feel uncomfortable. Finally she said, "You called Canada a jackass."

"Yes." Austria wasn't afraid to admit that. "I don't like people treating my house like it is theirs. Earlier I was saying less nice things about Spain to my kitchen sink."

Amusement sparkled in Lichtenstein's face. "Brother set him straight. Don't worry; we are going with the plan that you and brother thought up." She turned to leave, her body language obviously suggesting that the older country should follow, that things were happening downstairs, and fast. Then, pausing, she looked back again. "You know, Canada is just trying to protect his brother. He is worried about him. And he doesn't usually act like this. It's just… he's spent so long in America's shadow."

Now it was Austria's turn to look back with a calm gaze. "I know how he feels. I'm worried about my brother too."

_America:_

The last thing America expected to happen was for an insistent beeping sound to begin and for Hungary to dig into her pocket with an amazed glimmer in her eye. He had not expected to be trapped in a basement and watch Hungary pull out her cell phone, which she hated, still not being used to landlines, and bring it to her ear, pressing the talk button on the way.

America did believe that England almost fainted.

A loud stream of frantic words could be heard buzzing from the phone, and Hungary replied almost calmly, as if she was ordering a pizza. Yes, she was fine. Yes, she could do something. Yes, the door was locked. Yes there were potatoes down here – what does that have to do with anything? No, she didn't want a churro, GET OFF THE PHONE SPAIN.

When she finally put the cell phone back in her pocket, looking relatively stunned at the fact that Prussia had left it with her and that she had not thought to check if she still had it.

"Canada made it to Austria," she murmured. "They're coming. And they have asked us to throw all the potatoes at the door of the basement."

America stared at the female nation with disbelief written all over his face. "They want us to do _what?_"

"Throw all the potatoes at the door."

Watching as a smile broke across England's face, America suddenly felt very dumb, as if he didn't know something obvious. "What?"

England walked up to a sack of potatoes and pulled one out, testing it in his hand. Then he looked back at America.

"Austria, Prussia, and Germany are the German brothers. They share the same language and much of the same thoughts. Austria and Prussia especially – they are more like each other than either of them would ever guess. You might think they are complete opposites, but inside they are the same." England tossed the potato from hand to hand. "The two used to be incredibly close. And so Austria knows his brother's two weaknesses. Beer… and potatoes. Both of which Germany inherited a love of."

America tapped his foot impatiently, bored with the family tree lesson on the three. "And?"

England grinned even broader, picking up another potato and throwing it to Hungary, who caught it nimbly. "America, what is one sure way to get people not to focus on a battle?"

A glimmer of understanding started forming in America's mind. "Distract them with protecting something they love."

"Exactly. And since there is a lack of beer in here, but no shortage on potatoes, we work with what we have."

America caught the root vegetable that was now thrown towards him, an evil looking showing in his blue eyes. "Well then. Let's smash some potatoes."

_Russia:_

The house seemed so empty. It was wonderful, at least for a little while. It would be nice if Belarus would stay away all the time, but Russia would get to missing his subordinates.

Of course, everything was worth it.

The tall man pressed a button on his computer monitor and watched a screen pop up, notifications filling up the page along with pictures and notes and little moving dots that tracked the positions of all his spies.

A list showed above all, noting the most updated version of Prussia's plans, about who he would go after next. Russia nearly laughed when he saw that Switzerland was at the very top of the list. Prussia was so late to the game.

Latvia was up in the Nordic area, keeping tabs on what was going on there. His notifications went something like this:

"Denmark not happy I here. Sweden and Finland too busy with Sealand to know anything. Iceland ignoring me. Norway ignoring me too."

Russia remembered that this was the reason he had sent Latvia to the Nordics. They weren't likely to have any idea of what was going on, and Latvia wasn't as experienced as the others. His little dot showed that he was somewhere in Finland. There were discretely shot pictures (really badly taken pictures) showing each of the countries he had mentioned.

Lithuania was in Europe, a rather difficult job. His notifications were more understandable.

"I don't believe that Poland has any idea that anyone is even missing. He seems very concerned that his current pink wall color isn't quite right. Belgium is worried about France but doesn't know where he is. Neither Italy nor Romano seem to know anything, but I will keep an eye on them, especially Italy as he is close to Germany. Greece and Turkey I know have nothing to do with any of this. Greece actually seemed really bored about all of it, though he had heard that America was missing. All Bulgaria did when I asked him if he had heard about the disappearances was ask me if I wanted yogurt. It seems that no one is in this. I will keep an eye open though."

It was good to know that he could count on Lithuania. His dot showed him in Italy, proving that he was indeed keeping tabs on the pasta loving country. There were plenty of pictures that were well taken but didn't seem to have relevance. Russia couldn't see how the one of Bulgaria with yogurt would help him.

Estonia had been in Asia, but earlier notifications had told Russia that no one there had even heard about the disappearances. Russia had made a note to watch Japan's house carefully, just in case his old ally, Germany, contacted him. But now Estonia was in a very important position, watching Austria's house.

"Canada showed up and there was a long time when Austria was playing on the piano. I recognized Chopin and Mozart. He has good taste. But now Austria, Switzerland, and Canada have left, leaving Spain and Lichtenstein watching the house. From what I could hear with the bugs I placed around the windows of the house, they have a plan to rescue America, England, and Hungary. I am not quite sure what it is, but it sounded like it had something to do with playing on Germany's weakness. I will continue watching the house."

With Estonia's messages where several shots of the door and windows of Austria's house, including one with the three that he had mentioned actually leaving, then entering a car.

Belarus had the hardest job, planned that way because Russia was half hoping she would be captured and Lithuania would rescue her, making her realize that though Russia was not interested, there were those who were. Yes, Belarus was watching Prussia's house.

"The red-eyed guy was unconscious. France brought him in the house with Canada following. Then Canada left. Germany is still at the store, and I understand that he is getting beer. That should take a while. Occasionally I hear loud noises from below the house. I think something is being thrown. Some guy screamed once. It was a girly scream. Makes me realize how wonderful you are. Marry me."

Russia shuddered. What a monster.


	8. Chapter 7

**Sorry that I haven't updated in a while! I was on vacation… But here it is, after longer than I expected. I thank my stalkers for giving me the motive to continue writing this!**

O.o.O

_Austria:_

Switzerland had insisted on driving. He said that he knew a lot more about technology than Austria and that he just liked the feeling of the wheel under his hands. While he was saying these things he was staring at Austria in a way that the brunette nation knew that it was more based on his horrible sense of direction. And so Austria was stuck in the passenger's seat, every once in a while stealing glances back at Canada, who was sitting in the middle back spot to stretch out his long legs.

The car was one of those with two seats in the trunk as well as the usual five, so it could comfortably fit seven. Austria had always liked it because then he could tell people, "Of course I can drive you to my concert," and then they had no excuse not to come. But he did hate the forte vroom of the engine that clouded his thoughts with its noise.

The farther they got away from Austria's house, the more focused Canada seemed to get, as if he was relieved that he would be able to help his brother so soon after he had left.

"I should have forced him to come with me," he said once. "But he was so adamant… and I just knew that England and Hungary agreed with him."

Austria couldn't argue with that if Hungary had agreed with America too. But he still thought it stupid that they had given up a chance to escape just to make more trouble for everyone else now.

It didn't take long to get to Germany's house, but for Austria it was like waiting through twenty measures of rest just to be able to play again. Completely endless and nerve-racking.

Switzerland pulled the car into a forest that was relatively near their goal. Then he turned so that he could see both of the other countries. Austria looked back at him all ready to start playing his piano again. Right hand treble. Left hand bass.

"Everyone know the plan?" Switzerland's voice was calm and clear, as if staging a rescue mission to get back three missing nations was an everyday occurrence.

"Yeah, just get on with it," Austria muttered, wincing at the hoarse rasp in his voice. It was giving away his nerves.

Canada just nodded, fingering his weapon.

The three got out of the car, Switzerland with his gun strapped to his belt, Canada loosening the strap of his own holster just a bit so it would be easy to get out later, and Austria wishing that Switzerland recognized how good it would have been to have his flute here. A few shrill notes…

They walked to the edge of the forest and found a large house there. A green car was just pulling into the driveway, and Austria almost groaned when he saw that it was Germany getting back with about five kegs of beer. The buff blonde called out and the door opened, showing Prussia there, a huge grin on his face when he saw the loot.

Both Canada and Switzerland had to hold back Austria when the brunette saw his brother. Switzerland clapped his hand over his old friend's mouth and tried to ignore the look of desperation on the musical nation's face. Soon Austria stopped struggling, remembering their reason for being here, and simply slumped, shaking, to the ground. The other two countries cautiously let go.

"Austria?" Canada whispered. Prussia and Germany had gotten all the beer into the house now, but he didn't want to take any chances on being louder than necessary.

When Austria finally stood up, the other two could see the tears in his violet eyes, hidden slightly by his glasses. "Is he stupid?" he asked. "We may not be related by blood… but he knows that I have always thought of him as a brother… How can he think that I would want…?" Looking back down at the ground, he took a deep breath. "Just go Switzerland. Let's get this over with."

He refused to watch as the other nation stepped out of the trees and went to go knock on the door. When Germany opened it, Austria could just barely hear a snippet of their conversation before Switzerland stepped in and the door closed.

"Switzerland! I wasn't expecting you for our weapon talk until tomorrow!"

"Yeah, well, something came up that I have to do tomorrow. Can we talk today? I recently acquired this great new model…"

"Of course," Germany said, sounding eager.

And then both were behind closed doors.

_America:_

The instant that the door had opened, America had stopped throwing, instinctively dropping all the potatoes in his arms. But it had only taken one glimpse of who was coming in for England to "forget" and throw one last root vegetable. And he had impeccable aim.

Something to file away in his knowledge about the other nations: France screamed, very loudly, when a potato hit him in the face. And then he dropped his plate of _French_ food that he had been holding. Yeah, thanks a lot England.

"For the last time, I'm sorry! It's not like there was much food anyway! Those French and there proportions!" England sounded exasperated, but America just continued to glare, trying to get him back for the lecture on forgetting to go to people's houses when you were supposed to.

By now all the whole potatoes had been thrown and the door of the basement, as well as the floor around it, was incredibly messy.

France had come back eventually, after the insistent thumps against the door had been over for a decent period of time. America noticed that he had a red spot on his face that looked as if it would bruise. England pretended not to see but everyone in the room could see the smile that kept peeking through.

The bearded man stood quietly in front of the door, then looked past America to Hungary. "Switzerland is here," he said softly.

At the way the female nation's eyes lit up, America felt calm descend on him. "Switzerland is the friend of Austria's that you were talking about?"

Hungary nodded. "I have a feeling that our rescue party is here."

France left the door open and the three crowded around, England putting both America and Hungary between him and the Frenchman. They listened to the voices of Switzerland and Germany talking about some gun that none of them had ever heard about. Then there was a shot and they could hear the front door open.

There were the distinct sounds of a scuffle, and France nodded to them, pointing towards the door. All four of them walked out and up the stairs to the main floor.

_Russia:_

The instant the notification from Belarus saying "That Swiss guy just got here," popped up on his computer screen Russia had turned on his TV and pulled up the camera that watched Germany's house. The beginning had been very boring, just listening to the two men talk about guns, but when the pistol went off and Canada and Austria walked in things got interesting.

The gun had been loaded with one blank, which shattered a vase and caused one shard to leave a long scrape on the wall. Germany had been distracted by this for a second, but quickly turned back around and shouted for Prussia ("East. East!") when Canada and Austria had walked in.

Both of the weapon wielding blondes had instantly stepped in front of Austria, shielding him from the look of cold fury that smoldered in Prussia's red eyes when he saw his brother. The music man was shaking.

A few unimportant words were exchanged, and then France appeared at the stairs with the three "missing" countries. And that's when it all really started.

Prussia took one look at France and screamed at him words beginning with "traitor" and ending with something far less kind. The chef turned spy just stared at Canada, communicating things with his blue eyes.

So far everything was going in Austria's favor.

But then the man himself broke, pushing Switzerland and Canada out of the way to stand in front of Prussia, trembling.

"It's been over sixty years," Russia heard Austria say. "Sixty years! And yet you do this to me!"

The fire in the albino former nation's eyes burned hotter. "What do you want Austria?" Russia could see Prussia's hand twitch towards his gun.

It wasn't lost on Austria. "Let those you kidnapped and my companions go."

Red eyes narrowed. "And you'll stay?" Russia watched Austria nod, and a look of confusion flicker across Prussia's face for the briefest second. "You all. Leave."

"Austria…" Both Hungary and Switzerland stepped forward at the same second.

Russia could see the anger boil up to Prussia's surface. He pulled out his gun and grabbed Austria, putting the weapon to the brunette's head. "Leave or I shoot. Germany, go make sure that they get in their car, wherever it is hidden, and get the hell out of here."

Both of the eastern European nations that had spoken out for Austria backed down at the thought of him getting shot, for although he wouldn't die, it would still hurt. They waited as France and England, then America and Canada – the former of the two brothers stealing glances back and wondering what this would do to his hero reputation – walked out the door. Then they too left, with Germany following, looking a little stunned at how things were going.

That left just Austria and Prussia in the room.

Russia looked away, and opened up the drawer he had stowed the box in. He took the carton out and put it on his lap, picturing the contents. He knew just who deserved it now.


	9. Chapter 8

**Authors Note: When I was writing that last update I kept repeating in my head "I'm sorry Austria-sama. I'm sorry Austria-sama. I'm sorry Austria-sama." But the plot needs what it needs… No matter what I must do to my Austria-sama!**

_Austria:_

All was quiet. Rest. Rest. Rest. Then the sound of an engine – thank God that Switzerland had kept the keys – and the door opening again as Germany walked back into the house. The younger country did not come into the room.

Austria stayed still, Prussia's hand still clutched around his wrist and the gun against his temple. The brunette hardly even breathed. So many mixed emotions. He had his brother back… but now he was a prisoner with a pistol to his head.

"They're gone," Austria said softly. "I'm not going anywhere now."

He winced as Prussia abruptly stepped away, pushing him slightly and allowing the pistol to bang against his head. But he said nothing.

Frankly, he wasn't quite sure what he had been thinking. They probably could have overpowered Germany and Prussia and just left. It was only because he had stepped out that he was in this new situation.

"Don't move." The voice was cold. Angry.

Austria didn't move. Not a single muscle.

He could hear Prussia sit down on the couch. "Shit," he heard. "Damn it, why did you do that?"

Slowly, cautiously, Austria turned his head. The glasses rubbed against his nose uncomfortably, but he didn't dare raise his arms. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Don't talk to me! You are not awesome enough to talk to me!" The red eyes were glaring so heatedly at Austria that the music man flinched. "You betrayed me! I wanted to destroy you!"

"Then why don't you? We're alone. I'm your prisoner."

Prussia looked away. "I don't know."

Austria continued to look at Prussia, trying to understand. But his mind kept wandering to… _it has been hours since I have played._ He knew that he was in a bit of a situation, and that he should be worried but all he could think about was that it had been too long since he was at his piano. His fingers twitched.

The albino before him finally turned to look at him again, but the silence stretched on. The scarlet gaze eventually wandered to Austria's hands.

Prussia abruptly stood up and grabbed the other man's wrist again, pulling him out of the living space and up the stairs to a room with a TV and… a piano. A small, baby grand piano.

The former nation pushed Austria towards the bench. "Play."

And the other didn't have to be told twice.

Piano. Crescendo. Forte! Quarter note. Quarter note. Half note. Staccato. Slur. Slur. Legato. Slur. Whole Note. Eighth note. Forte! Forte! Forte!

It was a long time before Austria stopped, letting his hands fall into his lap. He could feel the presence of Prussia behind him.

"Why did you do that for me?" Austria asked.

"I want you to go through what I did. I want land again. But I don't want you dead. And I know that you can't survive without your instrument."

Austria turned to look at Prussia. "What exactly are you planning?"

"You don't need to know the awesome plan yet." The white-haired former nation brought something out of his pocket and tossed it to the other man, who let it drop and then picked it up. "One side on your right wrist, the other to that piano leg."

Austria glanced down at the object he was holding. Handcuffs. He did as Prussia said, knowing that this had been coming sooner or later. And at least he would still be able to pick out the bass notes.

The conversation rested again.

"You are being awfully cooperative," Prussia finally commented.

Austria didn't answer for a long time. Then he sighed and said, "I missed you, if you can believe that. I never wanted anything to happen to you."

There was a laugh. "Yeah, right. You know, I can't believe it."

Another rest. Then the doorbell rang.

Prussia stood, glancing out of the room's door. "West? Who is that?"

Germany appeared, looking vaguely worried. "It's Italy." He looked around Prussia to where Austria sat, handcuffed to the piano.

The red-eyed man cursed and glanced at Austria as well. "Keep him out this room. Do whatever you have to do, just keep him out of here."

Austria listened carefully, putting the pieces together. Italy probably didn't know that Prussia was staying with Germany, as he wouldn't have kept it quiet. He definitely didn't know that Austria was here as a prisoner. And if Italy found out that Austria was here… Well, Austria had practically raised the boy.

"You should send him away," Austria said abruptly, not knowing particularly why he was trying to help his brothers. "You know how curious he can be."

The brunette flinched when Germany turned his glare on him. "We are not sending Italy away. Now… East?"

"We will both stay in here. Just keep that boy out."

Germany left, closing the door carefully and going to let Italy in. Prussia turned to Austria. "No playing. Keep that piano quiet."

The musical country nodded slightly. The cover slid over the keys.

_America:_

Switzerland and Hungary were pacing. While the western countries and Lichtenstein watched, the two paced, passing each other as they crossed the floor of Austria's living room.

Hungary muttered under her breath. "Sometimes he is – "

"– such an idiot!" Switzerland finished. "We had everything – "

"– under control! And then he goes and – "

"–does _that!_"

America wondered if the two knew that they were finishing each other's sentences. He understood what they were feeling, the situation had been entirely in their favor before Austria had allowed himself to get in Prussia's grab range trying to bargain for something that did not need bargaining.

But he understood Austria too. After all if it had been Canada… America glanced at his brother, still stunned at the holster on his belt. It was just so _not_ Canada.

The self-proclaimed hero glanced at England, who was staring at the floor, and America just knew that it was disbelief that he had managed somehow to let Austria get himself in trouble. Though at least this time it wasn't his fault.

France stood up and walked away, heading towards the kitchen. America hoped that meant that food was going to come.

Spain was quiet, having found another churro to drown his feeling of woe in. Lichtenstein just watched her brother, her face sad.

All this pacing and watching wasn't getting them anywhere.

It was nice to be comfortable again. The first thing America had done when he had stepped out of the car was call and get some place to bring him a hamburger. Pure heaven.

But every time America started feeling more and more comfortable his mind wandered to Austria and what may be happening in Germany's house now. Prussia had seemed pretty angry. And all that beer… Germany had been gone long enough that it must be tons of the alcoholic liquid.

The next time Switzerland walked by the couch, America reached out and grabbed his arm. He managed not to flinch when the gunman turned towards him, eyes blazing.

"Hungary, stop." America's voice was quiet but absolute. The girl froze. "This isn't helping anything. We need to think of a plan."

Switzerland sighed. "That won't do much."

"And why would you say that?" England glanced up from the floor. "If we all work together –"

"It's not that it won't be a good plan. It's Austria himself." Hungary walked over and stood next to Switzerland. "Sure, he wasn't thinking, and it upsets me. But he did this for a reason."

America turned this around in his mind. "Are you saying that he doesn't want to be rescued?"

"Yes."

A disbelieving noise came from Canada, but a look from America silenced him. He now knew exactly how Austria felt. And when the brothers' eyes met, Canada seemed to get it as well.

"He would do anything… for his brother," the ghost-turned-gunman murmured.

There was silence in the room. Then came a knock on the door, which then opened as no one had thought to lock it.

A blonde man with glasses walked into the room. The group assembled took in the miniature computer he held, the cell phone, the revolver.

"May I speak with you all?" Estonia asked.

_Russia:_

Thrumming his fingers against the desk, Russia watched the notifications flood in. They were all pretty much the same. _It's fun to play with Sealand! – Latvia. Italy left for Germany's house, Romano is looking for Spain – Lithuania. I'm in. Waiting for your call – Estonia. The piano played for a while, but it stopped when Italy got here. Marry me! – Belarus._ What a headache.

Only what Estonia said was really useful. But Russia wasn't ready yet. It wasn't the right time.

The box lay on his lap, heavy with memories.

_"Hello England."_

_ "Russia! What are you doing here?"_

_ "What are you doing?"_

_ "Oh, nothing."_

_ "That is…"_

_ "It's nothing!"_

_ "I should like to have that."_

_ "It's nothing!"_

It had been an accident, finding the item inside. And then when it had fallen into the lake Russia had thought that he would never find it again… He had felt terrible. Hadn't slept for months. This was important. It was all the proof Austria needed to show Prussia how he had felt, all caught on…

Russia closed his eyes, letting his hand fall on the wood. Really, it was a miracle that it had survived all this time out in the frozen lake. He would have thought that it would be damaged… unusable. But England had always taken special care of it. Back then things such as it had been his little project. He might not even remember it now.

Even so…

Russia let the thoughts fall out of his mind, instead speculating on how Austria and Prussia had treated each other. It had been… surprising. Yes, surprising, especially considering the circumstances.

The tall nation picked up his phone, toying with it for a second before punching in a couple numbers. "Yes, Estonia… It's time then."

He hung up and stared at his computer in anticipation. Russia had thought that he had known who to give the box to, but now he wasn't so sure. He would either save Austria, or let Prussia win. And it all depended on how things played out in one conversation.

O.o.O

**Author's Note: So… Review please? I ran this past a couple of my friends (I welcome APHxENGLAND to the people reviewing this… love you [as a friend] Iggy!) (yes you read that right, my friend is Iggy, I have a friend that acts like America, and one that acts like England. Man can they argue…) and they seemed to like it. So I hope you will to. I would also like to apologize in advance, school is starting on Wednesday (gulp) and I will not be updating as often. So please, stay with me. I will not abandon this.**


	10. Chapter 9

_Austria:_

Austria flinched as the word pasta echoed around the house for perhaps the fifteenth time in the past three minutes. He rested his head on the key guard of the piano, groaning silently. There had been a reason that pasta had not been allowed when they had all been living in Holy Roman Empire's house.

A soft sigh could be heard from across the room, and Austria glanced up to see Prussia, now sitting on a tall couch, rubbing his forehead.

"Does this happen a lot?" Austria asked, quietly and not really expecting an answer in return.

Red eyes snapped up, but they weren't glaring. "Oh yes. He shows up more and more often these days. Always at inconvenient times. It's like he has a knack for it."

"Has he ever seen you?"

"No." A pained look spread across Prussia's face. "No one but West has even knew I was alive these past sixty years… Except maybe Russia. He knows everything. I'm not quite sure how."

Austria laughed quietly. "Always look up and smile. It's nice to try and pretend that you know where they are."

"Where what are?"

"Russia's cameras."

There was a rest broken only by the background noise of _"PAAAASTAAAA!"_ Austria tried very hard not to smile at the shocked look on his brother's face.

"Cameras. Of course," Prussia finally muttered, rubbing his forehead again.

Austria stared at the former nation. Prussia was actually answering him. Maybe he could…

"What are you going to do to me?" Austria felt his tenor voice leave his lips before he had a chance to really think about saying it.

The movement of Prussia's fingers stopped abruptly. Austria instinctively drew back.

"It hit me like a tidal wave, that moment. Felt as if I was running into concrete, and then everything went black. After a while I could hear and feel, but for four whole years, I was stuck in a sightless coma. When I woke up, it felt as if whole parts of me where gone. I was still me just… not fully. Every day that I wake up I feel as if I have just lost something. And it hurts. Every moment it hurts. Physically and mentally. Stabbing pains. It's not awesome at all. But I'm still alive."

Nervousness stirred in Austria's stomach. "That… that doesn't answer my question."

The alto notes hit Austria's head sharply, like hail battering into him. "Yes it does."

The brunette flinched back, shaking. He could hear the metal rattle around the piano leg as his hand trembled.

The rest that followed was quickly broken by a loud voice from outside the room.

"Germany, let's watch TV!" Staccato steps on the stairs.

"Italy! Down here!"

The steps stopped. "But I'm already halfway up! And the TV in the loft is bigger…" The noise of motion started up again.

Prussia abruptly stood up and walked over to the piano. He knelt down by the bench and Austria felt the pull around his wrist towards the piano leg dissipate before his right hand was pulled behind his back and the cuff snapped around his left wrist as well.

"Stand up," his captor whispered.

The first time that Austria tried to get to his feet, his legs gave out from underneath him and he fell back onto the bench. Slowly, he tried again, leaning his weight on his brother slightly, not enough to be noticed. Prussia led him to the couch and motioned for him to slide underneath as the former nation went to rummage through a cabinet beneath the television.

Rolling underneath the piece of furniture, Austria waited as Prussia returned and draped a blanket over the couch, conveniently hiding its underside. Then the albino hid underneath with Austria just as the door opened.

"Italy, don't –" Austria heard Germany's voice abruptly stop as he saw the lack of his brothers in the room. "Ah well, one show. Then you promise to go back downstairs with me."

"No, no!" Prussia hissed next to Austria. "Go now!"

"Yes Germany!"

Austria felt squished as Italy sat down on the couch.

_America:_

Estonia's visit had started off with nothing important seeming to happen. The blonde man had talked to the other nations and typed rapidly on the keyboard of the miniature laptop. He had turned down France's offer of food with a smile and joked with Spain, who only returned the favor halfheartedly. Then his phone rang and he listened for a few seconds before hanging up and pressing a key on the computer.

When the laptop turned around America found himself looking into the face of Russia.

"We are streaming a live video conference," Estonia announced. "Mr. Russia would like to talk to you. All of you."

Everyone moved to sit or stand around America, and the nation himself suddenly felt – uncharacteristically, he knew – awkward being in the center of things. Swallowing hard, he inclined his head formally.

"Hello Russia."

America watched as a bright smile lit up the other man's face. "America! How nice to see you! It has been far too long. And it is nice to see you safe again. You two also, England, Hungary. And France! What a brave venture that was! You could stand to learn a few things, however. Canada, that was a wonderful display, as well as Switzerland, of course. Spain, Lichtenstein, fantastic, fantastic." The smile faltered. "I am most upset about Austria though. I knew what he would do, but I did expect some more help on your part convincing him otherwise."

"What were we supposed to do? Prussia was going to shoot him!" America felt heat rush to his face. He was already feeling guilty about all of this, and didn't need someone telling him that his emotion was correct. Some hero he was turning out to be.

Violet eyes stared out from the computer screen. "Switzerland and Canada knew that Austria was unstable upon seeing his brother. He should have been watched more closely. But right now that is beside the point. I need to talk to England."

Shifting his head so that the blond Brit behind him could lean forward, America shared a long glance with Canada. He could tell that his brother was feeling guilty too. The other North American had known that Austria had become "unstable."

"Russia? What do you need?" England's voice was calm and careful; he was clearly trying not to show emotion. Not even surprise at being asked for by Russia.

A beaming lip grin again. "I don't need anything really. Just wondering if you remember an old project of yours."

There was a long pause before America heard England talk again. "You don't mean… You said that was destroyed. All that cold… the ice! Impossible that it survived."

"Ah well, the little bit that I needed was fine. I had it transferred onto more modern technology. Now… I'm just wondering who I should give it to."

America turned to watch England's green eyes widen. "That's… That's not a question!"

Russia tilted his head slightly. "No, it isn't really. In fact, I know now. It wouldn't do any good to give it to him… So yes, that will work nicely. Thank you for your help England."

"No, wait!" England leaned forward even farther just as the screen went black. America could practically smell the history of burnt scones on his former brother's skin.

Raising his hand, America pushed back England slightly before the man fell onto the chair. "What does he mean, England?"

There was a silence. Then, "Back in World War Two Russia wasn't the only spy."

_Russia:_  
Resting his chin on his hands, Russia stared at the box before him. Everything was ready. His ticket was set. He would be leaving Moscow in two hours.

The house was empty. Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus… All out in their respective positions. It was starting to feel lonely. If only Ukraine was around. But her boss and his ways…

Sitting up, Russia brought the box closer and opened it, pulling out an item covered in bubble wrap. It was small. He had put it back in the box after having Estonia transfer the original onto this newer technological wonder this morning. Something had just felt nostalgic about keeping it in the wooden cube.

But now it was simply slid into his pocket as he stood. The one item he was taking. For, after all, he would be back before bed tonight.

As Russia left the office he turned out the lights and pulled out his cell phone. The tall man rarely used the device, it was so annoying having to keep getting used to new technology as the years went by. But he didn't want to be alone when he got back. Russia called up each of his subordinates and Belarus, giving them flight information and instructions to have the heat on and supper ready when he came back.

They'd have dinner all together tonight. Almost like a family. Belarus was his sister but… That monster. With the Baltics there things would be easier. And he wouldn't be lonely.

Russia walked out the door, briefly looking back to make sure that all the lights were off. He locked the door and strode towards the garage.

He had a package to deliver. Personally. To someone currently in Germany.

O.o.O

**Authors Note: Things are starting to move a whole lot more! I got a shy comment into my inbox from someone asking about me and my friends and our Hetalia characters. Hug to anyone who can guess who I am! So, this is my first update since school starting. Review please? I am sad with my lack of reviews… Get me past twenty reviews please my lovely stalkers?**


	11. Chapter 10

**Birthday Update Fest – Number 1

* * *

**

_Austria:_

The cloth directly above Austria's head jiggled as Italy bounced up and down. Groaning quietly, the brunette brought his hand to his face, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head – brought on from perhaps the ninth cooking show Italy and Germany had watched – and the slight twitch of his fingers. Four and a half hours. Far too long.

Prussia hadn't moved the entire time, hadn't made a single noise. Was so used to having to hide that he could go into statue mode for however long we wanted. But Austria could see the smoldering, angry light in his red eyes. This was taking away time from his plan.

As another show started a pillow was thrown onto the ground. Squinting, Austria could just make out the words "Pasta" and "yum" before a brunette head fell on top of it. The musical nation blinked and glanced quickly at the way Prussia's eyes suddenly narrowed. From this vantage Italy would be able to see under the couch. And Austria had no doubts that it would not be good if he did.

"This is my favorite show." Italy's voice sounded so happy. It echoed and bounced around the room, allowing each word to be sharp and annunciated from under the couch.

Everything was quiet for a while as a woman with a thick Italian accent talked about linguini as if it was the noodles of heaven above. Then it cut to commercial.

And Italy stretched and turned toward the couch, presumably to talk to Germany.

And his big eyes stretched ever so wider as he caught sight of the underside of the furniture.

"G-germany?"

"Yes Italy?"

The small man swallowed hard. "Why is Austria with a dead man under your couch?"

In an instant Germany was on the floor as well, peering underneath with his ice blue eyes surprised. "East, you couldn't have found a better hiding place?"

Austria felt a tug on his arm and allowed himself to be pulled back out into the room. As they moved he could hear Prussia say something that sounded quite like, "I didn't have enough time and there is only one door in the room! Damn it West, I may be awesome but I'm not Superman! I had to work with what I had!"

Bracing up against Prussia as he got to his feet, Austria looked longingly at the piano, trying to make it obvious enough that his brothers would see. No such luck.

If he was going to be in a coma for four years, they better let him play first.

"Germany, why is Austria handcuffed?" Italy sounded so confused, and actually close to tears. Austria wanted to go and hug the younger country, tell him that everything is fine. But he couldn't let Italy see something like that. Couldn't let the younger one know that Austria actually did care about him, kind of like he would a younger brother or a son.

The four of them, Austria, Hungary, Italy, and Holy Roman Empire had been a family of sorts. And far more functional than him and his brothers.

Plus he was handcuffed and wouldn't be hugging anyone at the moment.

Prussia step forward and slapped his hand hard on Italy's temple, watching the small brunette crumple unconscious. "When he wakes up, it was all a dream." The albino's face showed that he wasn't particularly happy about what he had done, but that he felt it was necessary.

Both Germany and Austria cried out, but unlike the standing brunette, Germany could move. He fell to his knees and stroked his friend's hair slightly. "East." His voice was dangerous. "Do whatever you want fast before I call up America and tell him that whatever _he_ wants to do, I won't stop him. Italy wasn't doing anything wrong."

"It's better like this," Prussia said simply before turning on his heel and pulling Austria out of the room. The last thing Austria saw before he went into the hall was the furious look on Germany's face as he stared after Prussia.

And when he thought about his younger brother's words… Austria realized that Germany had no real idea as to what was going on.

_America:_

The rescue party was composed of America, Canada, Switzerland, and England. Hungary had wanted to come, but she had been outvoted. Mostly because America knew that he could trust her with Austria's house.

Spain had wanted to come as well, his face strangely serious for once. But then he had gotten a call from Romano and quickly made his exit. He had looked happy and America wondered if "where the hell are you, you bastard?" was code for something else.

So it was France, Hungary, and Lichtenstein staying at Austria's house and the other four off to Germany again.

England had refused to say anything more about the box and the rather one-sided conversation he had with Russia. Not even when America had asked with his famous puppy dog eyes could the Brit be moved. He would not say more than "Russia wasn't the only spy in World War Two."

The small group was in a circle trying to strategize as they went through their weapons. Switzerland had his handgun, and Canada had one similar but with slightly less gadgets. America knew that England had his pocketknife and a good deal of other sharp objects hidden in his boots, as well as a small gun in its holster that he wasn't going to use.

But when it came to the American himself, things were more difficult. The first item he mentioned was his Swiss Army Knife, but one look from Switzerland made him drop that train of thought. The next thing…

"Hey, I think I saw something out back! You know, I'm quite adept at wielding a chain saw!"

"NO!" Canada's voice echoed around the room, startling the rest of the men there. "No, no chain saw." His face was pale.

In the end America had to settle with one of Switzerland's extra guns, and though he did know how to shoot he found it quite an uninteresting weapon. The whole deal would be much more fun with a chain saw.

America didn't have much time to mope, however, as it was quickly back to talking strategy.

_Russia:_

No bags, just straight through customs. Though the first class passengers' customs line. Russia flashed a smile at the lady and requested a special person, the one designated for helping nations when they came into another country. She looked confused and Russia could just imagine her thinking, "what, am I not good enough?" but she did not complain, instead just nodding and getting the proper person.

And then Russia was through and on his way to Germany's house, tapping his coat lightly where the item rested. The cab he had caught was driven by a man obviously distressed at the thought of driving this intimidating Russian over fifty miles through the woods. Russia just smiled and closed his violet eyes. People were so predictable sometimes. Even this German was wary of him.

It really hadn't taken that much thought to know who to give the item to. Why give it to someone who could not take advantage of it? If he merely gave rules as to how it would be used, then surely everything would turn out all right…

But brash decisions would be made despite his cautioning. Perhaps this could be a lesson to everyone. A lesson to listen to Russia.

Now that was a comforting thought.

Russia let himself look like he was dozing off, but he stayed alert to his surroundings. He had spied for too long not to keep his wits about him.

That was a mistake that England had made. And it seemed so long ago…

Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Now was the time to look towards the future and analyze it. There were three possible outcomes of this day. And only one was particularly desirable.

Russia would just have to push the pawns towards that one as much as he possibly could.


	12. Chapter 11

**Birthday Update Fest – Number 2

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_Austria:_

This new room didn't have a piano. It didn't even have a CD player. Or a window. It was the attic. And the only thing in the attic other than a table and two chairs was a gurney.

Prussia had let him up here and looked around in disgust. It was clear to Austria that his brother hated this room. Hated it, hated it, _hated it_ with an emotion so deep it was hard to describe. Before he could ask why, his albino companion waved his hand around and dubbed the room his 'home for those first four years.'

His tone suggested that now it would be Austria's.

Now the two were sitting across from each other at the table, only a piece of paper between them. Austria tried not to look at the rows and rows of typed lines, feeling mildly sick. What had he gotten himself into?

At least his handcuffs had been taken off. They had begun being quite uncomfortable.

Prussia cleared his throat and pushed the paper closer to the brunette. "Do you want to know what's on it?" he asked, voice strained – straining to sound nice, Austria thought. Though he couldn't help but hope that he was straining to keep up his nerve and that he would break. Maybe he was starting to believe what Austria had told him. The truth.

He nodded.

"It's transferring your land to me," Prussia said, not wasting any time. "With a clause in there that states you shall be sustained on a small chunk of your original land, so that you won't fade away. As soon as you sign it begins to take effect."

Austria tried not to shake. "What's it like? Those years."

The look on the albino's face showed Austria that he had not been expecting that question. But he was able to answer, easily, quickly. "For a while you are stuck in the land of your mind. Then you start hearing and feeling things from the outside world, but you still see the inside of your mind. Eventually you wake up. That's it."

The violet-eyed musical nation had a feeling that was far from it. That there were things he was not being told. "What makes you think that I'll sign?" he stammered out.

A shrug and a slight frown. "You'll sign." The paper was pushed even closer to him and a slim finger pointed out a clause near the bottom.

_"In accordance to this, the countries that otherwise might be victimized in the search for revenge will be left alone – including the countries of Hungary, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, and all of the Allies."_

Austria knew he would sign.

Just then the doorbell rang.

It didn't take long for the sounds of voices to carry up the stairs to the attic and a surprised-looking Germany, still with a glare in his eye for Prussia, stepped into the room.

"Visitor for you two," he said softly.

The silver hair, the violet eyes. "Hello Austria, Prussia." Russia smiled.

_America:_

They were using Austria's car again, Switzerland still driving. He had looked ready to shoot anyone who would try and take his place. America wondered if it was just that Switzerland wanted to be the one to say to Austria, 'I drove to come save you.' He was sure that if he was the one behind the wheel, they'd be making a lot better time.

Canada was going shotgun this time, America and England in the back. A tense sort of silence filled the entire car. It was the sort of silence that whispered into your ear about everything you didn't want to think about.

It was finally broken by England's cry of, "If someone does not talk soon, I am going to explode!"

America gave him a look that said "I am silently agreeing with you," like he might have back when he was a colony. When he wanted to be all discrete and have his own little world with just England, not allow the rest of the world near his brother.

Seeing it, England burst into tears.

And soon everyone was crying.

But it was a warm sort of crying, a companionable sort of crying. And if America wasn't mistaken, Switzerland's foot pressed down with slightly more force on the gas.

And then they were crossing the border into Germany. The nation's house wasn't very far.

America glanced at the rearview mirror in a way that allowed him to see Switzerland's face. He didn't miss the one solitary tear that ran down the blonde man's cheek. And he saw the stoic neutral nation mouth the words, "I'm sorry for leaving you."

He wondered if Austria knew that he had someone who cared for him so much.

His time as a prisoner probably wasn't given him that mindset.

America prayed that they would get back to Germany's house soon.

_Russia:_

Not in the mood for mindless chatter, Russia just pulled out the item and held it in his hands, weighing it, admiring how modern it looked. When he'd pulled the original early 20th century rolls out of the box… Well, who would have the technology to see that anymore? But Estonia had fixed it all up for him. Estonia, who should now be on his way back to Russia.

For a second the tall man blocked out everything around him to focus on what should be going on with his "family" of sorts. Estonia on a plane, Lithuania going through customs, Latvia arriving at the airport, Belarus on her way to the airport Russia had just left. She had waited for Russia to get here to switch off with him, saying that she did not trust those inside enough to leave her post. Russia could almost say for certain that she had an ulterior motive of seeing him. But it didn't matter, because they were all going back home, and tonight Ukraine was coming over for dinner.

Russia shook his head and smiled broadly, fingering the circular item carefully. "Prussia, you are about to make a very brash decision, are you not? May I suggest something?"

He watched through the corner of his eye as the smaller man glared slightly and nodded. "Fine."

Smiling even wider still, the Russian stepped to the table and placed the disk in front of Prussia. "This is a DVD. A DVD of something very important. You should watch it before you do anything else today. And I do mean anything." He sent a meaningful glance towards the paper.

But with that being it, Russia stepped back and started for the door. The only thing he did before leaving was turn around and fix the albino with a harsh stare. "If you do not follow my advice, you'll regret it. Watch that Prussia."

The man walked down the stairs and out of Germany's house. He stepped lightly back to the taxi and smiled at the driver, making it clear with his body language that he would like to go back to the airport now. There was no hesitation as the man started to drive.

Resting his head against the window, Russia bit his lip slightly. Had he pushed enough? If Prussia didn't watch the disk then things would turn out badly. And he wasn't joking when he said that Prussia would regret his mistake.

Russia knew every one of the other nations more than they knew themselves. He had studied their behaviors for years. They didn't even know how they came across on the outside. That was their biggest failing.

Giggling, Russia stared out at the trees. That was his biggest failing too. So what if he hadn't pushed Prussia enough, he knew what would happen. And it would all come back to help him. To let it be known to everyone that what he says is correct.

In his mind, it wasn't a bad trade.


	13. Chapter 12

**Birthday Update Fest – Number 3

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_Austria:_

He watched as Prussia stared down at the disk silently, could almost see the wheels turning in his brother's head. Austria knew that Prussia did not trust Russia: for what was there to trust, really? For all he knew the disk could install a new spy software that would watch him through his television, or explode his house. But for some reason Austria felt that Russia was sincere on this. Whatever was on this disk was meant to help.

Apparently Prussia did not come to the same conclusion. He pushed the disk off to the side and the paper forward, producing a pen out of nowhere. Austria watched the other's face closely before coming to a decision of his own.

Signing was the only way to get his brother to believe him. And that perhaps his people would be better off with Prussia. After all, in the past he hadn't done that great a job, always having to rely on others.

With one final look around, an air of regret playing around his features, calling every last piece of music to his mind so that it would play for the next four years, Austria signed.

And just like that he felt something strike him in the face and everything went black.

_Prussia:_

Staring down at the brunette before him, whose head was now on the table, hand still holding the pen by his side, Prussia felt guilt clutch up at the back of his throat. Austria had signed. Austria had signed without fighting. He did not feel awesome right now.

Looking back at the disk, a sort of curiosity unfurled in his chest. What was it that Russia had wanted him to see? Without thinking, he grabbed the disk and left the attic, going back to the loft.

Prussia noticed that Italy had been moved somewhere, probably the guest room. Why could no one see that it had been for the little nation's own good? Now when he woke up he could go through things normally until everything was finished and Prussia could come back out. Why couldn't they all see that he was doing the boy a favor?

He popped in the disk and sat down on the couch he had been trapped under for so long this day. Slowly, so slowly, the screen began to show a picture, began to give off sound.

A picture of a battlefield and the sound of rain.

Prussia knew this place. He leaned closer to the screen, eyes searching until they found his own, white hair sticking out in all the gloom.

He watched himself pant, then all of a sudden, fall to the ground. And that was all that he could remember.

Out of nowhere a darker figure appeared, running through the rain and falling to his knees next to the figure of awesomeness. Squinting, trying to see through the gloom, Prussia was surprised to see that it was Austria there, now shaking the unconscious figure and screaming his name. Prussia could see the wounds on Austria's person and took a sharp breath. His brother was more worried about him than about himself. How was that possible? Austria had always been a snobby aristocrat that didn't care…

Prussia watched silently, stunned, as Austria fell to the ground too, possibly from blood loss. And then Germany appeared and called over for help. "Take Prussia back to my house, get Austria to his, fast." And the picture faded out.

About to turn off the TV, Prussia was stopped when another picture formed. One of the attic and himself waking up. Of Germany saying, "I know someone will be glad to know that you are…"

And of himself screaming, "It's all his fault! That AUSTRIAN!"

And the shock in Germany's eyes as he didn't finish his sentence.

Now Prussia really did turn off the television, sitting shocked and feeling crappy. What had he…

He got to his feet without another word and ran back up to the attic. What had he done? Oh God, oh God, what had he DONE?

_America:_

They stepped out of the car, each holding their weapon of choice. America glared down at his own pistol, thinking angrily to himself that it was NOT in fact his weapon of choice. Boring little handgun. Curse it for not being a chainsaw.

Before they could bust down the door it was opened, an emotionless Germany standing there. America would look closely and see that behind the mask, Germany was feeling quite a bit. Worry clutched at him.

As they stepped into the house, it became apparent that things were not all right. Italy was sitting at the table in the living room, his hands over his ears, tears rushing down his face. He looked disheveled and miserable, but America didn't have time to focus on that. Because a voice from above – Prussia's voice, he knew, was screaming.

"Damn it, wake up! It's gone, the paper is GONE! Shredded! Wake _up!_"

America was startled by a sudden movement as Switzerland started running up the stairs, passed a landing, and ran up another flight to what was probably the attic. The North American country glanced at his other two companions and then followed Switzerland.

The sight that greeted him as he stepped up into the attic was a shell-shocked Switzerland slumped against a table and a frantic Prussia shaking an unconscious Austria on a gurney.

Well that wasn't something you saw every day.

Prussia's screams continued to echo around the house.

_Russia:_

Watching impassively from his computer, Russia shook his head. Prussia should have listened. It was too late now. He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen with that the paper destroyed but one thing was for sure – Austria wasn't waking up soon.

The way he saw it, this was a culmination of a whole bunch of stupidity. Prussia's stupidity for believing that it was Austria's fault. Germany's stupidity for not setting him straight. Everyone's stupidity for believing Prussia dead. Austria's stupidity for stepping out and trying to be the hero when everything was fine. And once again Prussia's stupidity in not watching the video when he was told to.

But the lesson was learned now. They would all pay more heed to what Russia told them.

Ukraine appeared at the door, her silver hair flapping lightly around her headband. Russia felt warm as she smiled at him, and he lifted the scarf slightly so that he could breathe in the smell. Smelled like home. Smelled like the love his older sister had for him, the sweet, innocent love of family that his _younger_ sister had yet to learn. Now was not the time to worry about Austria and Prussia and what would happen.

Now was the time to have supper with his family. And he was looking forward to it.

He left the room without a backwards glance at the computer that still showed the attic of Germany's house.


	14. Epilogue

**Birthday Update Fest – Number 4**

**And here it is… The epilogue for Rise of the Fallen Land.

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_Austria:_

It had been taunting him for too long now. That light. Today he was going towards it, just to see what happened. Today it had come closer. Today it had noise… birdsong. And so now it would show him what was behind it, what it was hiding. Because he was sure that it was hiding something.

He walked towards the light.

_Prussia:_

This had to be the worst day of the year. It would come and taunt him, everything so happy and wonderful and those stupid BIRDS singing as if just to spite him. Any other day he would whistle along with the birds. That was totally awesome. But today they should just SHUT UP.

Eight years ago today Prussia had made his greatest mistake ever. And upstairs Austria was still sleeping. Not in Germany's house anymore, no, Prussia had moved to Austria's so that he could make sure that when Austria decided to WAKE UP everything would be all right.

The first four years he had felt strength, the feeling of a nation slowly fill his body. But it wasn't the same – wasn't the right land. It was stupid of him to have ever thought that he could just swap places with another nation. Now the feeling had been slowly going away. All he could do was hope that it was going back to Austria.

Switzerland and Hungary came by a lot – and Prussia was sure that neither of them would ever forgive him. They wouldn't believe that he had been blinded by revenge, mislead revenge, yes, but still revenge. They wouldn't even believe Russia when he assured them that Austria would be alright. Prussia believed him. He knew that Austria just HAD to be fine.

But still this day was torture. Because it reminded him of all of this.

He knew that sometime in the afternoon a whole bunch of people would show up – Hungary and Switzerland and Lichtenstein, Germany and Italy and Spain, France and England, America and Canada, and maybe Russia and the Baltics if the spy was so inclined. But for now he just had the quiet house and the damn birds being so cheerful outside.

Buttering a piece of toast, Prussia tried to pretend that this was just like any other day. Not like that was much better, he was always dwelling on depressing things which was not awesome at all. But it was still better than this, anything was better than this.

And so lost was he in his concentrating that he didn't notice it at first. In fact, it took a good fifteen minutes before he even realized that there was something out of the ordinary in the background.

His head flew up. Prussia knew that noise. But it had been so long… The sounds of a piano played by a clearly expert hand.

Tearing up the stairs to the music room – which had been practically untouched all these eight years – Prussia stood in the doorway, not daring to look in. He could hear scales being played, and listened as they slowly turned into concertos… And it was then that he allowed himself to look in.

He stood there for a while, just staring at the back of the brunette head, at the way his brother expressively leaned into the keys as he played. The music danced around his head.

It stopped abruptly. "If you would like to listen, come in and sit down, don't just stand there."

Without warning, Prussia began to laugh. He closed his eyes and laughed, let it all spill out in his relief. And before he knew it there was someone next to him and he was peeking through his eyelids at Austria's face, and his brother was smiling.

"It's all back?" Prussia whispered, his giddy relief abruptly cut off.

Austria smiled broader, and nodded. "It's all back."

"That's awesome."

Later Switzerland and Hungary would come, and all the rest too, and there would be loud celebrations and partying. Later Austria would have to be filled in on all that had happened in the past eight years. Later the two would have to sit down so that Prussia could properly apologize – he couldn't feel fully awesome unless he did. But for now everything was all right.

Prussia sat down in a chair and listened to his brother play the piano, for once happy about this day.

_Russia:_

"A little to the left," Russia said softly into the microphone and the camera did as it was told, sliding over to give him a better view. Staring at the little party, which would soon turn into a big party, his violet eyes searched for something in particular. They skipped over the happy little group around Prussia and Austria – those were the Germanic nations and for now everything was fine there. The western Europeans he ignored as well. Finally he came to watch the American twins.

Ever since America had found out about the truth surrounding Canada things had been interesting there. And now that one game was resolved… Russia didn't want to be bored.

He settled back into his chair with a smile. This would be fun.

The Soviet spy lord tapped a button on his computer and brought up the communication between him and his family. Ukraine's name now showed there as well, she had said that next time she wanted to help in whatever way possible.

All he typed were a few words, but they were incredibly important. In seconds they would be showing up on the other Soviet nations' cell phones, laptops, PDA's… And they would know to immediately report.

Russia wrote, "Let the games begin."

**End

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**Author's Note: And that is the end of my first fanfiction that I ever started! How'd you like it? Please review! And keep an eye out for "Gun You Down", starting in December, which will cover Russia's next game.**


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